


Everybody's Gone Surfing, Surfing for the UK

by makingitwork



Series: Chase/House [12]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: Age Difference, Flirting, Gay, Happy Ending, Holiday, House knows He's australian really, M/M, Mild Abuse of Authority, Slash, Surfing, happy little drabble really, hotel room, mild Dom/Sub, sun cream, though you wouldn't think it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:12:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1938753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because Chase misses surfing, and House wants to see his naïve little follower half naked and soaking wet.</p><p>Kinda of a win/win really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everybody's Gone Surfing, Surfing for the UK

"So," Cuddy finishes her rant, and gets to the point she should have made the moment she walked into the room with House and his three ducklings. "This patient is very important, he donates thousands to this hospital every three months, so the budget has enough for House, and one of you," She looks at Chase, Cameron and Foreman "To go to South Pagi near Indonesia, and diagnose his friend, Sana." With that, she leaves. 

House, wide eyed, turns to his three musketeers, and they stare back at him, before Chase cries out

"Please can I go?" He asks, and House stares at him, he licks his lips, words stumbling out as he tries to explain "South Pagi is the second best surfing location in the world- it's been so long since I've gone surfing! And it's July! The best waves would be coming in-"

"What?" Foreman shakes his head "If anything, I should go. I'm his number two."

"What about me?" Cameron frowns "I've never been out of America! Chase, you used to live in Australia, you've seen places! I wanna see places! And Foreman, you need to stay here if you're so great! Man the tip line!"

"Enough!" House calls, when they start yelling at each other, he hobbles over to the side where he turns on the coffee maker- but before he can reach the handle, Chase is pushing something into his hands. Coffee. Just the way he likes it, two sugars, no milk. House arches an eyebrow, and Chase shrugs 

"I made it for you before I even knew there was a chance to go to Indonesia."

"You made it for him because you're a suck up." Foreman grumbles, as Chase sits back down, and House takes the perfectly made coffee and sits at the head of the table, gulping it down gratefully. 

"Chase is coming with me." He says simply, Chase grins, arms flinching to raise in triumph, but then stay by his side when Foreman and Cameron glare at him. 

"Why?" Foreman demands "Because he made you coffee? I'll buy you a coffee maker right now!"

"You could do that anyway," House purses his lips, before shrugging "Whatever. This Sana, girl or guy, you tell me, if they live in such a popular surfing place, chances are, they go surfing. So chances are, they're gonna want to talk to someone who goes surfing." He gestures to Chase, doing an exaggerated stage whisper "Guys," he says to Foreman and Cameron "I think Chase might have gone surfing when he lived in the top surfing destination in the world- you know, Australia?!" Cameron rolls her eyes, and Foreman begrudgingly admits that House is right. The two of them leave, so it's only House and Chase sat at the table, Chase can't hold in his excitement. 

"Did you know the Mentawai Islands get waves higher than 9 meters?" he asks with wide, vibrant, ironically sea blue eyes. 

House rolls his eyes "Go play in the sandbox, Robbie, I need to book our holiday."

"Holiday?" Chase frowns "I'm pretty sure we're meant to be saving Sana's life while we're there. I mean, we can take a few hours to look around, but it won't be a holiday-"

"What do you bet?" House cuts him off "Sana's a male or a female? 50-50 you're right. Unless that's what's wrong with her. Then, it's an easy diagnosis."

Chase stands up, collecting the folders for clinic duty "I'm gonna go $60 on man."

"I'll see you." House nods, shooing Chase away. He watches the blond leave, and wonders to himself for a moment. Of course, Chase is the right choice to bring, connect with him/her on an emotional bonding level, blah blah blah, but House can't shake the feeling that the moment Chase mentioned surfing, House had to see him shirtless, in tropical coloured shorts, hair beaded with sun caught ocean droplets. He needed an excuse to see the Australian in his element. 

What's worrying is that, House's feelings, tend to get him in trouble.

...  
...  
...

Chase is an excitable kid on the plane.

They're up in first class, and Chase had bagged the window seat, taken on a Gameboy- a Gameboy, for Christs sakes, and is playing it, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. And sometimes, he blurts out stories about 'wicked waves' he rode in Australia, as though House can keep up with his insane logic. When the stewardess comes over, offering champagne, Chase looks up, and then looks to House with an almost unreadable expression on his face.

Almost unreadable. But House knows what it says. It says my mother died of alcohol abuse, and you should only drink wine at communion. It says, how many patients have we treated because of an alcohol problem. It says, how many times will you go into rehab. It says, alcohol is for weddings, bachelor parties, and nervous breakdowns. Not for flights. And so House sighs, and shakes his head "Just some water thanks. And maybe a packet of rolos for junior over here." The stewardess frowns, but nods and disappears. Chase glares at House 

"I'm not a kid." He grumbled, turning back to the Gameboy. House watches over his shoulder, before shrugging

"I'm on level 57." He brags, but that just interests Chase.

"Really? I'm only 32, I can't get past this giant oaf thing."

"You need to cross the enchanted swamp."

"But I don't have the sword to kill the troll that lives there!"

"Why not?"

"I haven't bought it yet!"

"Well then go and by it!" He exclaims, and the woman comes back, with water, and a packet of rolos, House thanks her, jugging the water, and opening the chocolate. He takes one for himself, before holding one out for Chase, he teasingly lifts it to his lips, because the handsome blond refuses to look away from the screen, he's intensely killing a troll- Chase is too distracted to see the teasing, so just opens his mouth, and perfect white teeth nip at the chocolate, and he hums his thanks, fingers still moving rapidly on the controlled. House is...surprised, to say the least. 

It doesn't stop him from hand feeding Chase chocolate for the rest of the flight, and he tries not to dwell on the fact that it's strangely intimate, and has a completely different feel from their normal fatherly/son relationship. He likes this one better.

...  
...  
...

"Which bed do you want?" Chase asks, bounding into the hotel room. He's carrying his own suitcase, as well as House's, which he picked up without being asked. House doesn't know whether it's because Chase is still playing teachers pet, or because he's thanking House for letting him come. The room is nice, with large balcony windows that have sunlight streaming in. Large, with two single beds on opposite sides with blinding white pillows with delicate green mints. 

"Whichever one's closest to the bathroom," he shrugs, and watches Chase place his suitcase on the one near the balcony, then placing House's neck to the other bed. "So, you think Foreman's gonna kill you when we get back?"

"Probably," Chase beams at him, running his fingers through his shorter hair. It had been a surprise when he'd cut it, but it looks good, admittedly so (I want it to look how it did in the episode where they go speed dating, he looks so amazing there, sorry out of character) emphasised his eyes and his jawline, as though he needed another reason to looks good. "I don't know why he even wanted to come. He's never surfed before."

House rolls his eyes, sitting on his bed "Not everything's about surfing," 

Chase frowns at that, before shrugging "Back home, I use to go surfing at the Gold Cost every weekend with my mates." He closes his eyes, flopping back on his bed at the memory "So fantastic. Did you ever surf?"

"I hate the beach."

"Oh." Chase sits up then, a little worriedly "So does that mean-"

"Don't worry Wombat," House can't help his smile "I'll still take you to the beach so you can stand on a piece of plastic while a wave comes at you."

"Thanks, House," and his voice is incredibly genuine. House looks away, otherwise he may get attached.

"How long have you been homesick?"

"Just kicked in a few weeks ago." Chase rubbed his elbow "I got a call from my cousin Monica, she always calls, but this time, she was at the beach, I could hear the waves crashing in the background. I wanted to drive to California that night, but, this job," he looked around, hands sliding across the cool silk sheets "Never thought I'd get the chance. It's like fate."

"So...if I'd chosen Cameron?"

"You wouldn't." Chase insisted, and he sounds so sure about it, that it catches House's attention. He looks up curiously, arching an eyebrow for Chase to explain, and the younger doctor sighs "I would always have been me that you picked. Always. I didn't need to ask, but I did anyway, because I couldn't help it. You wouldn't have picked Cameron because she's in love with you, she wants to change you, and she would have spent the entire trip here asking questions about your childhood and trying to understand you, and you would have been in hell." He shoots House a knowing look, and House shakes his head fondly

"The only question you asked was how to get to level 57." He admits, and that's a conversation he doesn't mind having. Chase nods happily, and House frowns "How did you know about Foreman? He is right, you know, he is my number 2."

"I'm you're number one." Chase replies, not sounding smug, just factual. "The fact is you hired me way before you hired Cameron or Foreman. And yes, Foreman got promoted, and was your boss at some point, and you do respect him, I was the first one. You know me. And the truth is, that thing I did with Volger...it showed a backbone. Not the kind to fight you on ideas or diagnosis, but a backbone to show you that I care about my job. Foreman has never shown you that, in fact, he's quit this job twice." He shrugged "It was me. You would always have brought me."

House doesn't want to admit that he's right. "Or..." he says "Maybe I brought you because I wanted to see how you looked surfing."

Chase laughs loudly, nodding "Maybe that's the reason. What the hell do I know? Maybe you brought me here so that you could have your wicked way with me. Whatever it is, I'm grateful."

"Would you?" House frowns "Let me have my wicked way with you? Let me have sex with you, and continue having sex with you when we got home. Would your British heritage allow you to do that? To embark on a physical relationship with your boss?"

Chase meets House's cool silver eyes, and smiles "I'm Australian," he drawls, his accent subconsciously getting stronger as he defends his true heritage "And, I'm not a whore, House. Yes, I am a suck up and a teachers pet, but I would never let myself be used and thrown away." He becomes suddenly passionate "And I don't believe you would ever ask me to be your whore."

House's eyes widen marginally, which actually means he's really surprised. He nods "You're right, Rowan. Oh sorry- did I say Rowan? I meant Robert."

Chase shook his head, a forced smile on his face "You're a real ass, you know that?" He stands up, picking up his phone, and heading for the door "Why can't you ever let us just end a conversation on good terms?" He sighs, rubbing his face "I'm gonna see Sana. Remember, bring $60 for when I'm right." And then he's gone. 

House is sat there, stumped. He was a real ass. And even though Chase had just sworn at his boss, House couldn't even get angry, because Chase had...he'd smoothed everything over with the final comment about their bet. It told House that yes, the comment had cut into the little Australian surfer, but he was still House's friend, still his employee, still someone he embarked on bets with for fun. It made House guilty, and House hated being guilty. He picked up his cane, and the money, and headed to the hotels elevator, hoping that this Sana, was in fact a man. 

...  
...  
...

Sana is a man. 

House hands Chase the money wordlessly and the Australian's grinning. Sana is a -correction- very handsome man, with very dark, but not black, skin, shaved hair, he's muscled and young, and handsome, with tattoos running up his shoulders. Chase waves his arm when House arrives "This is Doctor House,"

"Ah, Doctor," comes a heavy accent that House can't place. Something African. This man isn't local. That rules out a few diseases. "Robbie has told me all about you!" 

House arches an eyebrow and leans in towards Chase "Robbie?" he whispers, and Chase shrugs 

"He said he didn't want to call me Chase because it was a verb, or something," 

"Ah," House shakes his head "Chase isn't a verb until you conjugate it Sala-"

"Sana," Chase chimed

"-Sana, Chase is a noun on it's own. Like....I joined in the chase. Or is it a noun? I don't know. Wow, English is a funny language huh? Robbie here, out resident brit, would know all about that!"

Sana frowns "He is Australian-"

"He knows." Chase sighs, rubbing his temples "So, tell us your symptoms."

For some reason, the 'us' makes House stomach do something funny. He knows what the feeing is, but tells himself that he's just messed up from all the rolos.

...  
...  
...

"Ah mate!" Chase grinned "This is awesome."

House looked up from the deck chair under the umbrella in the middle of the near deserted beach, and had to agree. Chase looked...amazing. A pair of blue 3/4 length surf shorts, shirtless, and taught with lithe muscles, sun kissed everywhere, flawless, a large yellow board under one arm, and his neck- Jesus, it shouldn't be that tempting. His collar bone jutted out with the need to be bitten and sucked. House sipped at his smoothie "Where'd you get the board?"

"These girls let me borrow theirs," Chase frowned "It was weird, I didn't even ask them..." It's another quality about Chase that he likes. So blissfully naïve about his looks. He stupidly believes that it's people's personalities that find them love. Probably the work of the monastery he was locked in as a child. It's...endearing. 

"So you're using a girls surfboard? Very pretty."

"House," Chase sighs, exasperated, and the tone reminds him of Wilson, and has him grinning "Surfboards aren't-"

"Hey!" A bubbly brunette with large breasts bounds over in a blue bikini, she waves at Chase, trying to be seductive

"Oh hey," Chase smiles at her, unaware of the dazzling grin he's shooting, "House, this is Bell, she and her friends leant me the board." He thrums at it with his fingers. House waves, and Bell blushes, feet kicking softly at the sand. She puts on a fake shyness in her voice

"Sorry to come rushing back," she coos "But me and the girls were betting on your accent." She twirls a lock of hair around her finger, biting her bottom lip for show- House didn't use to be able to tell when biting lips was fake, but after years of watching Chase do it for real, he knows the real deal. "So, where are you from?"

"He's from England," House cuts in "Beautiful British Twang," Chase rolls his eyes, but the girl fist pumps

"I guessed England!" She beams, and Chase stares at her, wide eyed and incredulously. "The others all guessed Australia, but I was like, just because he surfs doesn't make him Australian, you know, like?"

"Right." Chase's shoulders drop, and he points to the ocean, "I'm gonna..." she nods, and bounds away, House laughs 

"Woah, little Aussie, you sure aren't breaking your country's stereotypes."

"Of course I am," Chase winks at House "I don't know many British people good at surfing," and then he turns and jogs towards the ocean. House can only watch, slightly agape. He knows Chase didn't mean for the wink to be as sexual as it was, but that just made it way more sexual. And now look at him, jogging all in slow motion with gleaming muscles and tanned skin and surfed board, he looks like something out of a tv show for teenage girls. 

But House watches, enthralled, like the girls who leant Chase the board, as the blond swims out. 

He is good at surfing. 

House smirks proudly, watching the girls gawk over him, as Chase reappears, hovering over a wave, with perfectly stance, rocket speed, graceful, and he can do tricks, and he does. Like riding a bike apparently, because his tricks get more and more impressive as he gets back into it. The girls can look, but Chase is going back to their hotel room tonight, with just House. 

When, about 2 hours later, Chase re-emerges from the water, he goes to the girls first, hands them the board back, and rather confusedly takes the numbers they thrust at him. He goes back to House, panting, and collapses in the chair opposite him. "That was amazing," he breathed, he's soaking wet, and his hair is sticking up in some places, and flattened down in others, darkened by the water, but he looks...like something out of a magazine. It's almost a little unreal. "I don't know why they gave me their numbers. They know I'm not staying here for more than another day."

House rolls his eyes "It's called a one night stand, genius," he gathers up the numbers and thrusts them into his pocket "You should give them to Foreman when you get back, might stop him from punching you in the face."

Chase laughs "Yeah, I don't need that happening twice." It makes House pause, and he suddenly feels the need to defend himself, or apologise. For some unholy reason, he chooses the latter

"Sorry about that, by the way,"

But Chase, good, sweet, perfect little Chase, doesn't make a big deal like Cameron would have, doesn't mock like Foreman would have, he shrugs it off "Detox." He laughs, picking up a bottle of water bringing it to his lips "You weren't yourself." And that's the end of the conversation, because Chase is rubbing his forehead "Would you put some sun cream on my back? I don't normally burn but-"

House wants to point out it's pointless to put sun cream on after exposure to the sun, because that means he doesn't get an excuse to rub his hands up and down Chase's back like a lecherous old man about to deflower a virgin. Though it puts a lovely image into his head.

It doesn't occur until much later that night, when they're both almost asleep in their separate beds, in the darkness of their hotel, that Chase is a doctor. Chase is a Doctor.

Which means- Chase knows sun cream can't help after exposure to the sun. 

Which means- he asked anyway. 

Which means-...House smiles. His little wombat is growing up. 

He gets out of bed, and hobbles over to Chase's, where the Australian is awake, and silent, bright blue eyes lit up by the moonlight streaming in is watching him. "I was wondering when you'd get it," he grins, and House mutters for him to scoot over. "Remember," Chase whispers "I'm not a whore."

"I know that," House says honestly, running his fingers through Chase's hair "You're something much more terrifying. You're a commitment."

"Noun?" Chase grins, nuzzling House's neck "I'll be no trouble," he promises, and House laughs breathlessly 

"I know that. But it's okay if you are."

They're only 30 seconds into their relationship, and House has basically told him he loves him. 

Woah. He's great at this commitment thing, slow and steady wins the race.

The important thing?

Chase doesn't mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Sana was cured by the way...woah, the subplot got away from me ... :)
> 
>  
> 
> Some great prompts by the way, oral fixation will the next fic, followed by breath play :)  
> x


End file.
